


Time

by knightenchanted



Series: Trespasser and Beyond [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5783614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightenchanted/pseuds/knightenchanted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn must deal with the increasing volatile nature of the Mark as she prepares to head to the Darvaarad. </p><p>Takes place right after visiting the library in the Trespasser DLC (spoilers!).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time

_Traitors and spies, is there anyone you can truly trust in the Inquisition?_

The tension in the makeshift war room is palpable, and the arguments flying between Evelyn’s advisors are doing nothing to assuage them. Rarely had she seen them snap at each other with such ferocity, but she needs them more than ever to remain some semblance of calm. She has very little of that in herself right now.

Cullen and Josephine are firing arguments against each other, and Evelyn is about to intervene when she yelps as the Mark flares uncontrollably, the green pulses of light and her anguished groans catching the other’s attention. 

Though she has done her best to hide the flares in the past few weeks, this is a pain unlike any before. The searing pain shoots up her arm, and it feels like she is being scorched by fire and lightning. It almost brings tears to her eyes and it takes all her willpower not to keel over onto the floor. Somehow she manages to control the flare, as she meets her advisors’ expressions of shock.

“The Mark – it’s getting worse, I don’t know why, but I - I may not have much time left.”

Her three advisors exchange worried glances, concern for the friend they have come to rely on for more than Inquisition matters. Cullen’s gaze is hardest to meet, his helplessness threatening to unravel her composure she clings to by a fine thread.

_Steel your heart, the Inquisitor must not falter._

“This dissension needs to cease. We _cannot_ bicker amongst ourselves because the Exalted Council will claim the Inquisition has lost all control when their leaders cannot agree amongst themselves. Cullen, you may despise nobles with a passion, but in the end, _they_ have the power to undo everything we have done. Do not forget our original purpose here was for political talks - that has _not_ changed even with the revelations of the Qunari’s plans. Josephine, I know I’ve all but thrown you into the pit with the Council and I appreciate what you have done to level their opinion of us, but we now have a number of unanswered questions that we must resolve before things spiral out of our control. At this rate, I cannot do so by tiptoeing around the Council trying to earn their _approval_ while a threat looms over all of us. _”_

Evelyn breathes a long sigh of exhaustion. Not for the first time has she felt the mantle of leadership weigh heavily on her. She glances at her hand, and the Mark pulses tauntingly back at her. Maybe she won’t need to wear the mantle much longer.

“I need to get to the Darvaarad, it’s the only way to put an end to this once and for all. Whatever the outcome, you three must continue to be voice of the Inquisition. Be the order within the chaos. The Inquisition must fulfil its duty to the very end, and I trust you three to do so.”

She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a final goodbye, but the more she considered the uncontrollable nature of the Mark, the more she had come to accept that it might mean her death. Should she pay the ultimate price for the Mark, she would fulfil her duty as Inquisitor one last time. Perhaps she was destined to die the martyr – it would be a fitting end for the Herald of Andraste.

Cullen breaks the tense stillness of the room, moving forward to envelop Evelyn in a wordless embrace. She can’t bear to look at the pain in his face – she can barely handle her own – so she accepts the firm consolation of his arms and relaxes into his chest. It’s a small comfort, but she is grateful for it.

Somehow her words, or perhaps the fear for Evelyn’s life, puts the antagonism in the room on hold. The discussions that follow are civil, but a sombre veil hangs in the air. They come to an agreement to inform the Exalted Council of the Qunari threat, and plan a fall back should Evelyn fail in her mission to stop them. With the Mark becoming an explosive waiting to detonate, that possibility begins to seem increasingly needed.

***

In the chambers where they spent their first night together as husband and wife, Evelyn and Cullen find sleep alludes them. They content themselves with laying on their bed facing each other, exchanging tender caresses which feel as precious as the very first discovery of each other’s touch. Three years have passed, and it still doesn’t feel like they’ve had enough.

Foreheads touching, Cullen whispers to Evelyn in the silence they grew comfortable with. “We’ll find a way, Evelyn, I know we will. Dorian, Vivienne, Dagna – _someone_ will know what to do about the Mark. You just need to –“

“Survive getting through the Darvaarad?” Evelyn barks in grim amusement. “I’ve been too lucky with how many times I brushed hands with Death and survived. Maybe my luck has finally-“

The Mark flares again, illuminating the room in sparks of green light, and Evelyn cries out as the pain rips through her. Never had she truly believed that she might die until this moment, the pull of the Mark feeling like she was being physically sucked into the Fade.

Cullen clutches her protectively and she curls into him as if he could somehow safeguard her from the scorching agony. Evelyn fists her hand in an effort to contain the energy emitted by the Mark, but Cullen’s fingers gently pry open her hand, and he threads his fingers through hers, gripping the palm of her hand in a vice-like grip. At that moment, Cullen is her anchor and she fears if she lets go, she will be consumed by the Mark and be lost forever.

It feels like eternity when the flaring eventually stops, and Evelyn is left shaken and drained. The inevitably of her death seems only more real now, and the only emotions she can hold onto are lament, anger and regret.

She examines her left hand, still gripped tightly in Cullen’s. The gold ring on her fourth finger blinks in the green pulses of light, almost taunting her - as if it’s the last time she will ever wear it. She loosens Cullen’s hand off hers as she makes to remove the ring.

“Evelyn, what are you-“

“You should keep it, Cullen. I wouldn’t want the Mark to damage it, and if-“ she swallows the pit gathering in her throat and places the ring in Cullen’s hand before he - or her heart - has time to protest, “- if anything happens to me, you should have something to remember me by. I’m sorry Cullen, I wish-“

She chokes her last words out as a sob breaks through her and she curses herself for not being able to hold it in together. If these are her to be her last moments with Cullen, she would not have them in tears.

Cullen looks upon her forlornly, but then brushes his thumb across her cheek, catching the traitorous tears. He brings her left hand up to his lips and reverently kisses the space where her ring should be.

“Evelyn, I don’t need your ring to remember you. You will always be a part of my heart, no matter what. But I can’t believe that this will be the end. You’ve faced dragons, a darkspawn Magister and you’ve walked from the Fade _twice._ You’ve stared death in the face more than you can count, and your sheer refusal to lose to anyone or _anything_ should make the Qunari and whatever divine force which gave you the Mark fear _you._ ”

He slips the necklace around Evelyn’s neck off her – the one where she had attached the lucky coin he gave her years ago. He threads her wedding ring through the chain to join the coin. _Luck and love_ , he thinks tersely, he hopes that is enough to keep her safe.

“Keep the ring close to your heart. Let it remind you that _I_ am there with you.”

Evelyn nods wordlessly and her lips meet Cullen’s as the ring sits heavy on her chest. _Come back,_ he murmurs against her lips and she can only deepen the kiss in response.

Evelyn could never rely on false hope, but she will not deny Cullen his. Even so, the ring and Cullen’s words reaffirms her determination to make it out alive, or at the very least, ensure the Qunari’s plot never comes to fruition.  

 _I wish we could have had more time together,_ she had wanted to say. It was hard for her to accept that maybe they wouldn’t have the years together they hoped for, but Evelyn would make sure that Cullen would have a future to live for – even if that future didn’t include her.

***

They find little solace in sleep that night, the Mark a constant interruption to their already thinly-tethered dreams. They awake restless and the rest of the day passes in a blur of their usual order of business. Cullen organises the security of the Winter Palace, while Evelyn prepares herself and her companions for the battle ahead of them. Bull and Dorian agree to accompany her, while Cassandra outright demands she fight alongside Evelyn, much to the dismay of the Exalted Council. Without the Divine and the Inquisitor, they can do little else but wait for their return - or their demise.

In the armoury, Evelyn begins to modify her armour when she hears an excited yelp in the doorway. Pup looks up at her hopefully, with what looks suspiciously like a beehive on a stick. She laughs as she pets his head.

“I’m sorry, boy, not today.”

He whines dejectedly as he drops the stick on the floor.

“I do have something to tell you though.”

Pup perks his ears up at her, and tilts his head in curiosity.

“Cullen’s lucky to have found you. Thank you, for choosing him. You’ll look after him, won’t you? Maker knows that man doesn’t look after himself sometimes.”

Pup’s tongue wags happily and he barks in what she hopes is agreement. She smiles as she rubs his head affectionately, chuckling at his low pleasant rumbles. At least she can be comforted knowing Cullen would never be alone.

“We forgot to give you a name,” she muses. “I hope…I hope Cullen finds a name for you someday.”

***

The sun had just fallen under the horizon, when Evelyn, her companions and Cullen with a handful of guards, congregate in the room with the Eluvian. In a quiet corner of the room, Cullen helps readjust the final straps of Evelyn’s armour. Once again, it feels like he is gearing her up before sending her into the fire. The Commander sending the Inquisitor into battle. A husband letting his wife go to war.

He pulls her into an embrace, committing the feel of their arms in each other to memory. All of a sudden, the years they had together are not enough, they want the many years they dreamed of together as husband and wife. They _deserve more_.

“You _will_ come back,” he murmurs into her ear, just like he had whispered in the Chantry before her battle with Corypheus. Back then, it was Cullen who had been afraid, and she, who had confidently reassured him against his fears. She isn’t sure she can play that role again.  

“I certainly hope so.”

It’s all she can give him now. Evelyn has never been one to make promises she can’t keep, but she will try to come back. She would always fight to the last of her breath.

She remembers the ring and his coin around her neck. It no longer feels heavy.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you too.”

Reluctantly tearing herself away from Cullen’s arms, Evelyn meets her companions’ gazes. They nod at her in silent affirmation, and their belief in her gives her strength.  

 _Luck, love, and her most trusted friends. It’s enough,_ she thinks.

She glances at her hand. If the Mark is a time bomb waiting to detonate, she will make damn well sure she brings her enemies down with her.

Breathing deeply, Evelyn refits her Inquisitor’s mask, determined to make the Qunari fear _her_ in their final moments. Eyes forward, Evelyn leads her team through the Eluvian, letting the Exalted Council and the man she loved fade behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to slothquisitor for encouraging me to post my fics both on my tumblr and AO3!


End file.
